


another moment in your gravity

by liberate



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternative Universe - Modern Setting, Human Bill Cipher, M/M, a short weirdly poetic thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 12:06:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11897403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liberate/pseuds/liberate
Summary: and what is another star in a city of neon lights and starry highways?





	another moment in your gravity

**Author's Note:**

> i dedicate this amazing, well-crafted work to my newly declared billdip-squad on twitter. (i'm kidding, i found this half-finished and finished it in about ten minutes, but i was lowkey forced by them. i love you guys.)
> 
> prompt by [this](http://schmokschmok.livejournal.com/) amazing person for a livejournal ficathon except i have forgotten which one. this prompt is 100% my aesthetic. so is this au. i'm actually tempted to write more about it. if inspiration strikes me, i might add more chapters to this.

 

 

 

 

_i never knew how to express the roaring feelings inside_

_so i drew them on your skin in imaginary constellations_

_fingertips dipping in the well of all i felt_

_and you never noticed._

 

 

 

 

 

 

**i.**

 

He's eighteen when he gets his first tattoo of a constellation.

 

 

It's the small dipper, of course, right next to Cassiopeia, the one constellation Mabel loves the most, and even if she complains about the tattoo, because it's too much of an honor, he still catches her smiling. They both know it's not too much of an honorr, because there is no honor too great for the love they share, for the fire they would walk through together.

 

 

He knows he will never love anyone as much as he loves her – but with Bill, it's close. With Bill, it's so different, no soothing, no comfort, only a roaring thunderstorm within the mark of his very bones, shuffling the constellations across his body, rearranging them. That's what it feels like for him. For Bill, he's one of the million stars outside there, at the night sky, cold and distant, that will eventually explode and vanish, just for people to forget about them.

 

 

Dipper will never forget, and that's a curse and a gift at the same time.

 

 

**ii.**

 

 

For years, he watches Bill from afar, marvelling about how out of place he seems, in this small town, with his flashing, toothy smiles and piercings, with the fact that he doesn't so much as _blink_ at girls, smokes his cigarettes alone in front of the school and the teachers know, but never even speak up about it. Dipper blinks, and for a brief second, he _is_ like Bill – wears ripped, skin-tight jeans and flannel shirts, nobody calls him out for his journal because he is smarter than everyone else and _they_ know it, and he gets to kiss whoever he wants. Even if it's the most badass and most dangerous guy at school.

 

 

But then he blinks again and he's back to being Dipper, who still reads with his flash light long after going to bed and wears the patches Mabel sews for him, and nobody at school even knows his name. Especially not Bill.

 

 

**iii.**

 

 

Bill kisses him for the first time and his eyes are wide open. _That's the worst sign!_ , Mabel exclaims, when he tells her about it years later, but in this moment, he is nothing but falling – the rain is pouring all around them and only Bill's grip is holding him upright, and Dipper leans in when Bill reaches out to him and his lips taste like rain and nicotine.

 

 

Before Dipper knows it, he's addicted to Bill's nicotine-dripping lips and his starved touches – gentle, almost, not rough like Dipper expected, but Bill's fingers move with a pace that's halfway delicate and he calls Dipper beautiful like he means it. Dipper holds onto it, the dim-light nights in Bill's bedroom, when everything means _something_. He calls him his _constellation boy_ with a black hole in his hands and Dipper lets his fingers brush across the edges of the hole and figures he can handle it.

 

 

Instead Bill's mess swallows both of them whole.

 

 

**iv**.

 

 

“I don't love you”, Bill says. It's raining outside again, and Dipper feels worn-out.

“That's alright”, he says it right back and his constellations don't illuminate anything anymore.

It's not alright because _hell_ , he's in love with Bill and it's dumb and stupid and used to be glorious -

 

 

but now it's just faded.

 

 

**v.**

 

 

Dipper takes the last train. It's sunday night, and the sun is low in the sky. He shivers in his jacket, the wristbands Mabel gave him are the only dots of color in the grey landscape and he feels awfully lonely. _Once I'm there I'm getting another one of those tattoos_ , he promised Mabel, and her grin was bright enough to make him shine with her.

 

 

“Small-town-boy leaving his home?”, Bill's voice sounds just as mocking as usual, but Dipper is startled either way.

“I guess”, he shifts, uncomfortable. _I don't love you_ , it rings in his ears.

“I never thought you had the guts”, he crooks his head as if he is examining Dipper, and Dipper feels brave and maybe it's because of the train approaching in the distance or because of the freedom of finally leaving this city and it's so bittersweet, but then his lips are on Bills for the first time in forever and it _must_ mean something, but maybe it doesn't.

 

 

“Maybe I'll see you in the city”, but he won't because he doesn't love Dipper and what is another star in a city of neon lights and starry highways – just another lost soul and maybe that was what he was to Bill all along, when Bill picked him up first.

_I will miss you_ , Dipper says, but the words come out an hour after he left, the world passing by in the windows of the train and he will never find anyone else who calls him constellation boy and maybe that's a good thing.

 


End file.
